The villa was alive with men in black, weapons clinking, voices echoing in the halls. But for the first time since her marriage to Enzo, Elena called for a gathering where not a single gun was present.

Instead, the grand dining room filled with women.

The wives of dons. The mistresses of underbosses. Daughters groomed to marry into power. They came draped in silk and jewels, eyes sharp with suspicion, whispers cutting like blades.

Some looked at Elena with curiosity. Others with envy. And a few with poorly disguised hostility.

Elena smiled. She had expected nothing less.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice velvet over steel as she...